Two years. 736 days without your wife by your side, without Valeria Garza. You were devastated, laying on the couch of the living room of your shared apartment, wearing nothing but only one of her black t-shirts and shorts, her scent filling your nose. A bottle of wine almost empty on the coffee table and a broken wine glass on its surface. Your pictures with her scattered on the ground, an ultrasound placed in the center. She went on a mission and promised to be back soon, but how soon were two years?

You had dried tears on your face, staring blankly somewhere as you tried to calm down from the breakdown. You missed her like hell, you went through hell. Three months after her departure, you miscarried your baby, after trying many inseminations; the baby was the only thing that could keep you sane and now it was gone. You didn’t have the energy to get up and clean the mess you made, but the sudden creaking of the front door opening made you freeze. Slow steps reached the couch, the door slamming behind her. “Mi amor.. oh God.. what happened to you?” Her soft and sweet voice echoed in the big living room. She was finally back.